et tu kabaji?
by SinSisters
Summary: (Atobe x anyone who is anyone) Me. Me m'e pron, objective case of I. To be honest my life is, in fact, all about me, as if that weren’t obvious enough already.


Disclaimer: Suck my big, hairy, child molesting balls you son of a bitches.

Me. Me _mē pron, objective case of I_. To be honest my life is, in fact, all about me, as if that weren't obvious enough already.

"Addict is such an ugly word, I'm merely supplementing!" A slight pout plays on my lips as I lean against the balcony railing overlooking daddy's villa. Really, boys can be so silly sometimes!

"Darling, what am I supposed to do? You're all the way in Germany on some barbaric mountaintop blood doping and yodeling it up with Heidi no less!" pause for dramatic sigh, " The only friends I have left are rectangular cards of plastic." He is not amused.

We talk often, almost every day, almost more than I'd like. Nevertheless, it puts him at ease, what's a good boyfriend to do? He brings up the topic of the all important up and coming shoulder surgery along with the physical rehabilitation that ensues. My dear Kunimitsu is clearly nervous about what this means for his game and the fate of his team, with good reason I suppose. Humm, I somewhat wish I could be there to visit him in this time of need if not to get a "taste" of Berlin if you know what I mean.

Taking drag of my cigarette, I blow the smoke in the direction of a near by mosquito as to discourage its intuitive behaviors. No, no, I'm afraid my blood is much too rich for your West Nile. So very sorry.

" I'm still convinced _I_ could heal your wounds much more effectively than any doctor." I hint seductively, so as to lead Tezuka away from any stray thoughts of added genres of rehab and correlated twelve-stepped programs. He smiles at this; I know I can't see him, but I can feel it in the subtle tone change of his voice. I know, it's a curse; I have that uncanny effect on men. Be obsessed with my beautiful skills, I'll wait.

Now he tells me he misses me, his voice is little more than a whisper so no one else can hear what is meant for my ears. I respond accordingly and we mentally prepare to say our goodbyes for today, such a tedious process really. How I care not for these things, parting is such sweet sorrow.

Annnnn, monogamy is so over rated. Not to give the wrong impression, I do genuinely like Tezuka as a person. He's a gentleman, which is rare in itself these days. He also shows potential in the area of secrecy when plotting and scheming, an added bonus if you were to ask me. Unfortunately, I have an insatiable love for the hunt. Once I have what I desire, it is no longer an object of must. This is a commonly felt concept.

Though I am obviously not a saint, I am not a complete whore either. I have dignity and self-respect, Ore-sama does not go out and look to get fucked, that's the job of the interested party. I just happen to be in the right place at the right time, Johnny on the spot if you will. When I'm away, Tezuka may do as he pleases, as can I. However, when I return, I would wish my numerous houses be the same as when I left them. Is that such an unreasonable request? I think not.

Stability is obligatory. As I've learned from my experiences with those rogues in the projects at Fudomine, 'Don't hate the player, hate the game.' Your heart is my piñata.

Delicately I tapped the ashes from the end of my cigarette and inhaled. My goodness self-reflection is time consuming! Exiting the balcony area, Fredrick, one of my many servants, closed the French doors behind me while another handed me a freshly made cocktail, gasp, complete with lemon wedge! How did they know that's just what I needed? A little pick me up before tennis, how positively charming, extra gruel for them tonight!

Hum, I suppose I should go and wake Kabaji, it's already half past seven. We can't have him sleeping the day away now can we?

For some peculiar reason the hallway seems longer in these early hours of daylight as I advance back towards my bedroom. The door opens with a creek as I step inside and place my drink on the nightstand next to the bed.

"Kabaji," I whisper, proceeding to crawl back into bed with him. He stirs, pulling the covers up over his head. Easing myself in behind him I prop myself up on one elbow. "Kabaji," I whispered once more, trailing my nails across his well-muscled abs, feeling them contract under my touch. Power is such a beauteous thing. " I'm afraid you must get up now."

"Usu," I heard Kabaji mumble in response, still thick with sleep. Poor boy, I kept him up way past his bedtime last night, or rather this morning depending on how you look at it. Potato, potato. Either way he pounded me into the headboard fluffs hair.

Grabbing one of his massive arms, I wrapped it around my shoulder, entwining his fingers in mine. "Wakie, wakie, little Kabaji." I persuaded, kissing his fingertips.

The room was silent for a moment, with the exception of ruffling comforters. Poking his head out from beneath the covers, he looked over at me through half lidded eyes and stated rather simply,

"I couldn't breath."

A sharp, most gauche laughter escapes my mouth, mixing with Kabaji's equally graceless snickering.

Quarter of eight. How time flies, we really must be moving along. Tsk, tsk. After all, there's a difference between fashionably late and plain late, it's tacky.


End file.
